Starry Knight
by Rainack
Summary: Carlee and K.I.T.T. do some digging into Paul Forrester's life, after George Fox asks the Foundation to help apprehend him. What she finds leaves her shocked, but determined to help the man from the stars. Little does she know that he will return the favor, and then some. Takes place between Knight In Mourning and Knight Terrors.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Knight Rider or Starman. I only lay claim to the original characters and the idea for the story.

Starry Knight

Chapter 1

Even before the last peals of the door chime had faded away, a rapid, impatient, knocking began on the mansion's solid oak front door.

Carlee muttered under her breath, "Give a pregnant woman a chance," as she waddled to the door. Two months to go, and she was beginning to feel like an elephant. No, more like a beached whale. An elephant at least had some grace, being adapted to its size on land.

The double doors of the F.L.A.G. mansion were a matched set of solid oak, carved and stained a deep mahogany. Carlee knew they were incredibly heavy, but the way they were hung made them swing open and closed as if they were as light as feathers. The ease with which they swung open and closed always caught new visitors to the mansion off guard.

Pulling gently on the huge door, she nearly lost her balance and stumbled backwards when it was pushed further open by the person on the other side.

Recovering quickly, Carlee was able to jump clear of the door, as it banged into the heavy duty door stop set into the floor to keep the door from hitting and damaging the wall.

Carlee was about to lay into the man, when he rudely shoved his I.D. in her face, announcing, "Special Agent George Fox, I have an appointment to see Devon Miles." He gave her a dismissive look, then turned to peer farther into the mansion.

Fuming inside, Carlee decided to temporarily fill the role of the hired help that the agent thought she was. "He's expecting you. Right this way." She turned and led him to Devon's office. The hall they walked down was furnished with antique furniture and expensive paintings. Carlee's favorite was the piece that had probably the least monetary value, but was strategically placed to remind visitors of the origins of the F.L.A.G. Foundation. Wilton Knight had died before Carlee had become part of the Foundation for Law and Government, but from the stories Michael and Devon had told her about him, she liked to think the he probably would have treated her as a daughter. As she past the portrait, she cut her eyes towards Fox, then back to Wilton, then rolled her eyes.

Opening Devon's door without knocking, Carlee ushered George Fox into Devon's richly appointed office.

Just as the hallway was decorated to impress visitors, so was Devon's office. Floor to ceiling bookshelves – full of antique books and law tombs – took up most of the wall to the left of Devon's desk and behind his desk. The wall to the right of his desk contained framed copies of Devon's law degrees, as well as engineering and technology degrees. Strategically placed amongst the degrees were photographs of Devon with important world leaders.

A formal sitting area was also against that wall, so visitors would have no choice but to see the degrees and pictures. Carlee knew this placement had nothing to do with vanity, as Devon Miles was the humblest person she knew. Instead, it was to inform visitors that Devon was not a push over, and he had friends in high, and sometimes unlikely, places.

To the right of the door sat a table with a top of the line Intel 486 computer on it.

This was Devon's element. At sixty-six, Devon was the quintessential dapper English gentleman, despite, or maybe because of, his wild younger days. There wasn't a day since Carlee had been here that Devon wasn't properly presentable in a gray business suit, his gray hair perfectly combed. Devon had been the head of the Foundation for Law and Government since Wilton Knight had bequeathed the title to him on his deathbed a little over six years ago.

Looking up from the paperwork in front of him, Devon glanced from Carlee to the government agent and back again.

"Mr. Miles, I'm Special Agent George Fox, from the Federal Security Agency. We spoke on the phone," the man said, neglecting to offer his hand to shake. His brows furrowed slightly as he looked from Devon to Carlee, then back. "We had an appointment this morning."

"Yes, I am aware of that. Why don't we all have a seat and we'll get started." Devon replied with a sigh.

As Carlee settled into one of the two chairs facing Devon's desk, the government agent gave an impatient wave of his hand in Carlee's direction. "Why is she here? I was under the impression from our phone conversation that you would have one of your senior investigators joining us!"

Settling into his own seat, Devon replied, "This is Carlee Knight. She is the senior investigator I mentioned. If you have a problem with that, you are free to leave."

Fox began to sputter something, thought better of it, and sank into the second chair, only to pop back up a second later to place a photograph, from a file folder he'd been carrying, on Devon's desk.

Devon picked the photo up and glanced at the image for a moment before handing it across his desk to Carlee.

Carlee accepted it and gazed intently at the man in the picture, then looked up at Fox, waiting for more information.

"His name is Paul Forester."

"What is he wanted for?" Carlee asked.

"That's classified," Fox responded a bit too quickly for Carlee's tastes.

"Well, what can you tell us about him?" Carlee's tone told Devon she was about to lose her temper.

Studying the man closely, Carlee detected a hint of carefully concealed obsession in Fox's ice-blue eyes when he responded, "He is to be considered armed and dangerous." He glanced at her gravid stomach and added, "Once you've located him, be sure and call in local authorities to make the arrest."

* K * R *

As soon as the door clicked closed behind the F.S.A. agent, Carlee jumped to her feet, or tried to at any rate. Once she managed to lever herself up from the chair, she began to pace.

"Something about this is fishy! He's obsessed with finding this Forrester character, but won't give any details why?" She couldn't shake the feeling that Paul Forrester was being persecuted, and probably wasn't any danger to anyone.

Devon settled back in his red leather desk chair, steepling his fingers in front of him. "I agree with you. Have K.I.T.T. do some digging. We need to know more about both George Fox and Paul Forrester, before you find him." It was a foregone conclusion from Devon's wording that he had every confidence that Carlee and K.I.T.T. would find Paul Forrester. "Tell K.I.T.T. to dig as deeply as he needs to, but to try to avoid setting off any alarms."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Paul jerked up from the light doze he'd finally managed to reach, tensed to spring to his feet and run. As the fogginess of sleep fled, he listened for what had awakened him.

In the distance, he heard sirens, and fear had him scrambling to his feet before he realized they were heading away from him.

Settling back down, Paul took in his surroundings. He was in an alley between two metal warehouses. It was nearly pitch black, but he could just make out the darker forms of trash bins a few yards away. Being in an industrial area, the alley was dry and didn't reek of rotting things. There was the smell of machine oil and cardboard, but that was about it. The middle of the night on a Friday made it highly unlikely anyone would stumble upon him. He should be relatively safe here for a night. Though that was what he and Scott had thought at that hotel two long months ago.

Convinced that he was still alone, Paul leaned his head back against the building, his eyes going to the strip of stars just visible overhead.

He wondered if his son, Scott, could see the stars, wherever it was that Fox was holding him.

The pounding of the battering ram on that Utah hotel room door woke Paul from nightmares when he was actually able to drift into deep sleep.

He'd been across the hall at the ice machine, when he'd heard the door being broken down. There'd been no doubt in his mind that it was their room. He was already slipping out the door to the back stairs, when he heard Scott's frantic, "Run, dad!"

The fact that there was nothing he could do to help Scott was slowly killing Paul. He had no idea where Fox had taken Scott, and could only hope Fox wasn't hurting him, but it had been two months and Paul hadn't seen any sign of Fox.

As more and more time passed, Paul was beginning to think he should just turn himself in and allow whatever would happen to happen.

He couldn't continue on without Scott.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

It didn't take long for K.I.T.T. to dig up everything there was to find on George Fox and Paul Forrester.

"Before I say anything else, I'm going to warn you that this is a very strange tale I'm about to tell you, but in verifying everything, I even went into NASA's mainframe."

"NASA? What does NASA have to do with Paul Forrester?" Carlee asked, staring at the dashboard in confusion.

As she usually did when K.I.T.T. had information regarding a case, she sat in the black Trans Am's driver seat. The seat was pushed all the way back because of her stomach, and she could no longer reach the pedals. It was a good thing she didn't have to, as K.I.T.T. could drive himself.

"Are you familiar with the cargo the Voyager II carried into space in 1977?" On one of K.I.T.T.'s dash monitors, a picture of the space craft appeared; on the other, a gold vinyl record.

Carlee's eyebrows drew together in thought, as she tried to remember what was happening in the world during her police academy days. "I seem to remember the news talking about the Voyager II carrying a message of peace. An invitation to visit Earth?" She still couldn't fathom what the 1970s space program could possibly have to do with a man wanted by the Federal Security Agency, but she knew K.I.T.T. didn't have flights of fancy.

The Voyager II and record pictures faded out, to be replaced with two new pictures. The first was a top-down view of a tear drop shaped object. The other was a side on view of the same object, only this time, there was a distinct impression of size. A ladder was leaning against the object, and a man was sitting on the edge of a hole into the interior.

"Someone took us up on our invitation," K.I.T.T.'s statement hung in the air.

"What?!" Astonishment kept her from saying more for several long moments. "I would have remembered that, if it had made the news. It was covered up." She had worked for the Foundation for too long not to recognize a government cover up when it stared her in the face.

A video of an Air Force radar screen came up next, with a picture of a wild fire on the other monitor. The video showed an unidentified object tracking across the screen.

"They thought it was an asteroid at first, until it changed direction and speed when two Air Force fighter jets shot at it. It crashed near Chequamegon Bay, Wisconsin."

Two new pictures filled the monitors. "Jenny and Scott Hayden," K.I.T.T. identified them. "Scott Hayden was killed in an accident early in 1977. Jenny moved into their summer cabin on the banks of Chequamegon Bay. According to her family and friends, her grief was consuming her."

Carlee felt a pang of sympathy for the woman, having lost her own husband, Michael Knight, just six months ago.

"Yet the day after the craft crashed, a plumber swears he saw Scott Hayden with Jenny Hayden and that she was claiming to be kidnaped by Scott."

"How is that even possible?" Carlee wanted to know.

"This is where George Fox comes in. He was brought in to investigate the crash. They found Jenny's cabin. There was a photo album with a lock of Scott Hayden's hair. The occupant of the craft cloned his body from the DNA in that hair.

"The alien inhabited Scott's body and demanded Jenny take him to Winslow, Arizona. Where he met with his people and left Earth. Not before George Fox did everything in his power to stop him, though. Including having a road block set up by local law enforcement. According to witnesses, the car they were in drove through the road block and exploded. The alien carried Jenny out of the blaze surrounded by an eerie blue light."

Realization dawned in Carlee's eyes. "He came back. The alien came back. He's Paul Forrester. Wait, why did he come back?"

"Jenny Hayden was unable to bear children. Yet eighteen months after her husband's death, nine months after she helped the alien leave, she gave birth to a son. She named him Scott Hayden. At the age of three, Jenny gave him up for adoption. When he was fourteen, his adoptive parents were killed in a car crash. He was in the car with them, but escaped unhurt. Witnesses say he walked out of the fiery crash surrounded by a blue light.

"Around the time Fox started to investigate Scott, Forrester showed up, and they ran off together to look for Jenny."

"So, he came back to help his son," Carlee concluded. "Is there any evidence that he's dangerous, as Fox suggests?"

"No. Quite the opposite, in fact. Fox has questioned just about every person who's ever come into contact with Paul and Scott, and every one of them says that Paul has been incredibly kind, and even helped them in some way."

"Okay, where's Scott? Why is Fox only asking us to track down Paul?"

"Fox caught Scott two months ago. I'm still trying to locate where Fox is holding him."

* K * R *

Carlee came to a stop in front of Devon's desk, her hands planted firmly on her hips, as she finished recounting everything K.I.T.T. had told her about Paul and Scott.

"We have to help them."

Devon settled back in his leather chair, the look on his face a mix of emotions Carlee wasn't sure she'd ever seen from him before. Disbelief was rapidly being replaced with a look of pure fury. She knew why he was so furious, as she felt the same way when she realized how Fox was trying to use the Foundation against their own principles.

"Fox is going to wish he'd never involved the Foundation! Have K.I.T.T. print up everything and I'll get our lawyers working on Paul and Scott's case immediately. You and K.I.T.T. find Paul and Jenny. They'll stay here for the duration of this. We'll secure Scott's release as soon as possible, and make sure this family is left alone!"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"So the last known location on Paul was the Rancher Motel in Delta, Utah. He hasn't taken a photography job since then. He also hasn't stayed in a hotel," Carlee repeated what they knew as she paced her office area in K.I.T.T.'s garage. "He'll be either hitch hiking or walking to keep on the move. He still has to eat, even if he is living on the streets, though."

"He still needs money," K.I.T.T. agreed. "Up until Scott was captured, when Paul was still working, he was sending rolls of film to Liz Baines through friends he'd made in his wanderings. We know she was paying him for his services, and how she was doing it. I'm willing to wager she is still sending him money, since she feels responsible for Fox being after him."

"Good point, K.I.T.T. I think it's time I had a conversation with Liz Baines. If she isn't willing to help, then we'll just have to listen in on her phone calls to find out when and where the next wire transfer will take place. Got a phone number for me?"

Settling in at her desk, a plain, old, metal thing similar to what she and Michael had both had during their days on the police force, Carlee grabbed a pen and a piece of scratch paper.

After jotting down the number K.I.T.T. rattled off to her – a number in Washington state – Carlee picked up the phone and dialed.

When the other end was answered by the magazine's switch board operator, Carlee asked for Liz Baines and was briefly put on hold.

"This is Liz Baines," a high, lilting voice answered after a few minutes.

* K * R *

Liz Baines looked up from the proofs she'd been examining, when her office door burst open.

"You can't just barge in like this!" her irrate secretary, Molly, was trying to push her way in front of the woman who was striding purposefully into the office, hands on her hips. An apologetic look on her face, Molly began, "I'm so sorry, Miss Baines. She just..." Liz's up-held hand stopped her.

"It's okay, Molly. I think I know what this is about. It'll only take a minute."

"Are you sure? I can call security." Molly was glaring daggers at the intruder.

"I'm sure."

Molly deflated almost visibly, backing out of the office and closing the door. Not before shooting one more dirty look Carlee's way, though.

"Carlee Knight, I presume," Liz said, carefully moving the proofs aside and settling back in her chair.

Giving a curt nod, and not waiting for an invitation, Carlee took one of the two chairs across from Liz.

"As I told you on the phone, I do not know where Paul Forrester is, nor have I been supplying him with money," Liz had been playing this game with George Fox so long now that she no longer felt the nervousness of lying to law enforcement.

She knew Paul was harmless, and he needed her help. Plus, she still felt a lot of guilt for nearly getting him caught when he first returned to Earth.

"And as I told you on the phone, I'm not helping George Fox."

"Whatever the man has told you about Paul are blatant lies!" Liz's voice remained steady, but Carlee could hear the conviction in her tone.

"Look, Fox did contact the Foundation to help track Paul down, but..."

Liz broke in before Carlee could finish, "Foundation? What Foundation?"

"The Foundation for Law and Government," Carlee replied. She watched as Liz's carefully schooled expression altered so subtlety anyone else would have missed it. The ever so subtle widening and then narrowing of Liz's eyes spoke of hope and suspicion warring inside her. "You've heard of us?" Carlee asked.

"We ran an article about F.L.A.G. and what it does several years back. You help people with no where else to turn," the slight change of tone spoke of hope.

"People... beings... like Paul and Scott. Innocents being persecuted by those in positions of power."

Surprise widened Liz's eyes this time, "You know he's not human?"

A small smug smile played across Carlee's face. "Fox wouldn't tell us anything about Paul, so my partner did some digging. Some very deep digging. Classified doesn't hold much meaning for him."

"You're truly going to help him... them?" Liz's voice was small, like a child's. With Scott captured, she knew Paul wouldn't last much longer on his own.

"We've already traced how you keep in contact with Paul, so I can make contact with him on my own, but it would be easier with your help." With a glance down at her belly, Carlee added, "I'm not much up for a foot chase." Not waiting for Liz to respond, she added, "Paul, Scott, and Jenny have been on the run for too long. It's time they were able to be a family and have a home."

Without hesitation, Liz replied, "Just keep this in mind, if you're lying to me, I'll make sure F.L.A.G. gets so much bad press, no one will trust you ever again."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Turning away from the mail box store counter, Paul tucked the envelope of money into his pocket.

"Paul," the low female voice caused Paul to jerk back, as if he'd been struck.

He recovered quickly, turning toward the voice, his eyes going to Liz's face. "Liz?" Confusion and disbelief caused his brows to draw down in worry.

It was Liz's turn to reel. It had been many years since she'd seen Paul, and it seemed that time hadn't been kind to him.

He hadn't shaved in days, so a scruffy beard had taken root on his face. His eyes were what shook Liz the most. His once sparkling blue eyes were sunken, with dark circles under them. All the light seemed to have gone out of them, leaving them dull and nearly lifeless.

They shared a brief hug, and Liz could tell Paul had lost weight, as well. His body was nearly rail thin under his brown leather jacket.

As Liz pulled away from the embrace, Carlee stepped into view, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible.

Paul's instincts, well honed by so many years on the run, recognized her as law enforcement.

Liz felt as though she'd been slapped, when Paul gave her a sad smile. "I guess I should have known they'd get to you somehow, eventually." Turning to Carlee, he registered her advanced pregnancy, and made a decision. Holding his hands out for the cuffs, he quietly said, "I won't run."

"Mr. Forrester," Carlee said, taking Paul's outstretched right hand and shaking it warmly,"I work for the Foundation for Law and Government, and we're going to help you get Scott released and get the government, George Fox in particular, to leave you and your family alone."

The world abruptly began to spin, and the floor rushed up to greet him. Paul had just enough time to think that he'd been tranquilized, though he hadn't felt the prick of a needle, before the world faded into oblivion.

* K * R *

As Paul toppled over, Carlee did her best to guide his fall so he wouldn't hit his head, but also so she wouldn't hurt herself or her unborn baby. Once he was prone on the floor, Carlee crouched next to him, and tapped her comm link, "K.I.T.T., I need a med scan. Paul just passed out." Ignoring the strange look Liz was giving her, Carlee turned her wrist so the comm link scanned across Paul's body.

K.I.T.T.'s voice came through the device a moment later, "He's dehydrated, malnourished, and possibly in shock. He should be fine with fluids and food, but we should get him to Dr. Wesley, just to be sure."

From her position kneeling on Paul's other side, Liz eyed what had appeared to be just a fancy digital wrist watch. "What is that?"

Paul's groan, as he began to come around, distracted Carlee from answering for a moment. Haunted blue eyes opened and stared up at the two women in bewilderment. "What happened?"

Taking a grip on Paul's upper left arm, Liz slowly pulled Paul up to a sitting position. "You passed out. How long has it been since you've eaten?"

"I really don't know," Paul replied sheepishly. He moved to get the rest of the way to his feet, but his spinning head made him decide that would be a bad idea.

"We need to get you to the Foundation mansion, so Dr. Wesley can take a look at you, and get some fluids in you," Carlee said, levering herself back to her feet.

Paul's frightened eyes locked onto Liz's face.

"It's okay. I'm going with you," the look Liz shot at Carlee brooked no argument, but Carlee was already nodding her head in agreement. Pulling Paul with her to a stand, Liz said, "Come on. Up we go."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

As they approached the sleek black Trans Am, Paul supported between the two women, the passenger side door of the car swung open.

Carlee's automatic, "Thanks, K.I.T.T." gave Liz and Paul the impression that this was an everyday occurrence.

Once Paul was settled in the passenger seat, Liz crawled into the back seat through the driver's side door, and then Carlee got behind the wheel.

The dash board of the car was like nothing Liz or Paul had ever seen. The center of the dash held two television monitors. Across the rest of the dash were gauges and buttons the functions of which they could only guess at.

"K.I.T.T., you might as well say hi to Liz and Paul, so you don't scare them later," Carlee said, as she started the engine and put the car in gear.

"Hi, Liz. Hi, Paul. If you'd like, Paul, there's a bottle of water and a protein bar in my glove box that you're welcome to have." Directly above the gull wing steering wheel, a box lit up with three red bars as K.I.T.T. spoke.

"Um, thanks," Paul said. As he reached for the glove box handle – the one and only recognizable feature of the dash – the door opened on its own. Paul jerked his hand back, as though burned.

Carlee almost laughed, but stopped when she saw how frightened Paul was. His eyes darted around, as though looking for a way to escape. She reached over and pulled the items out of the glove box and offered them to Paul. "It's okay. He won't hurt you. K.I.T.T. is my partner and best friend, and he's the reason I know the truth about you and Scott and why George Fox is chasing you."

Trying to lighten the mood, as well as needing an outlet for her wonder, Liz exclaimed, "This is amazing! I've heard rumors for years, but never thought there was any truth to them. Is it true it can drive itself?"

Meeting Liz's eyes in the rearview mirror, Carlee gave her a pleading look. "There's a reason no one knows about him," she put more emphasis on the personifying word to show how she viewed the artificial intelligence. Glancing at Paul, who was sipping slowly at his bottle of water, she continued, "For a lot of the same reasons you never wrote about Paul."

Paul couldn't explain the sudden change he felt, but it was like he'd been surrounded by a warm blanket on a cold night. He just knew he was safe in the presence of the only other being on Earth as unique as he was.

Liz, however, still wasn't as sure of Paul's safety. "As long as you keep your word, I won't write about K.I.T.T."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Paul was feeling much better, by the time they reached the mansion, though Carlee, Liz, and Devon all insisted that Dr. Wesley check him over.

The infirmary was more like a small hospital than anything as simple as an infirmary. There was medical equipment, gurneys, a lead shielded area for taking X-rays, and privacy curtains hanging from the ceiling around two hospital beds.

Dr. Wesley set down the file he'd been studying, and rose from behind his neatly organized desk, as Carlee led Paul and Liz in.

Shaking Paul's hand warmly, Dr. Wesley smiled, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Paul!"

Paul returned the greeting, as he studied the doctor.

Graying hair and weathered wrinkles told Paul the doctor was edging towards retirement age. A wrinkle free lab coat worn over an equally wrinkle free brown suit told him of a pride in professionalism. An easy smile that reached the doctor's brown eyes set Paul immediately at ease.

Liz's gaze moved worriedly from Paul to Dr. Wesley and back. "I'll stay with you, if you want me to," she murmured quietly, her hand resting reassuringly on his arm.

Paul smiled down at Liz, no fear in his eyes. "I'll be fine. Dr. Wesley won't hurt me."

Her eyes still filled with worry, but resigned to follow Paul's wishes, Liz whispered, "Sometimes you're too trusting," before she turned to follow Carlee into the hallway and back to Devon's office.

Once the door closed behind the two women, Dr. Wesley motioned towards an exam table. "Have a seat please."

Paul noted that the doctor's expression had turned professional, but held no malice.

After listening to Paul's heart and taking his blood pressure, Dr. Wesley pulled a rolling stool over and settled himself on it. "Your vitals are good. If you don't mind, I'd like to draw some blood to make sure you don't have any infections."

Without hesitation, Paul responded, "Okay."

Standing again, Dr. Wesley went to a cabinet and pulled out blood draw supplies. As he pulled on a pair of latex gloves, he said, "I read in your file that you saved George Fox's life. Would you be willing to indulge an old doctor and tell me how?"

Holding out his arm, as the doctor tied a rubber tourniquet around it, then wiped an alcohol soaked cotton swab across a vein, Paul replied, "His heart was beating too fast, and irregularly. I knew enough about how the human heart works to be able to fix it with my sphere."

"Fascinating!" the doctor exclaimed, as he pushed the needle into the exposed vein.

Paul winced at the pain, but it quickly faded. His gaze moved from the vial filling with blood to Dr. Wesley's face. His blue eyes went unfocused, as he gazed into the past. "A few months after I came back, Scott and I met a young lady. She'd been blind since birth. She had an accident with some acid. Spilled it on her hands. I used my sphere to heal them. I knew she'd figure out what I was, but I had to help her. She wanted me to heal her eyes. All she wanted to be able to do was see. I can't fix something if I don't know what's wrong, though. I felt so helpless!"

The vial now full, Dr. Wesley pulled the needle from Paul's arm. Pressing a cotton swab over the spot with his left thumb, Dr. Wesley squeezed Paul's upper arm reassuringly with his right hand. "Welcome to a doctor's world, Paul."

After wrapping a pressure bandage tightly around Paul's elbow, Dr. Wesley took a seat on his rolling stool again. "Now that there's an end in sight, have you given any thought to the future?"

"Being here for those initial three days changed me, and I've continued to change since I returned. I couldn't go back, even if I wanted to," Paul paused, lost in though.

Dr. Wesley took silent note of Paul's failure to say home.

"Jenny and Scott have filled a part of me I never thought would be filled. My people don't have love the way humans do. From the moment we come into being, we spend our existence looking for the other half of ourselves. Soul mate is as close to the concept as human terms get. I have witnessed 'people' I knew slip into despair because they hadn't yet found their soul mate, their glow growing dimmer and dimmer. The only thing keeping me from that level of despair was my map making. Then I crashed and found Jenny. I didn't realize the depth of her effect on me until I had left.

"At that point, had I stayed, I would have died. Scott Hayden's body, as I had cloned it, was not able to maintain itself with my energy inside it. When I cloned Paul Forrester's body, I was able to compensate, so my energy won't burn this body out. It will last for a normal human life span." Paul held his hands out in front of him, palm down, then flipped them over, as he marveled.

"The human body is a remarkable piece of machinery, isn't it?" Dr. Wesley said, smiling warmly.

"The leaders of my people didn't think so. When I realized Jenny was my soul mate, I begged to be allowed to return, but they refused. I could feel my glow begin to dim. Then Scott called for help, only it wasn't just me who heard. His call disrupted everyone's lives. I was allowed to return long enough to help Scott, then I was supposed to return, never again to leave my people. The other half of me is here, though, so this is where I'm staying."

After a moment's pause, Paul continued, "I plan to spend lots and lots of time with Jenny and Scott. I don't know if I'll continue with photography, though. I've gotten quite good at it because I didn't have much choice, since I had so much to live up to, but it was the real Paul Forrester's job."

"You could go to medical school. If you know what's wrong, you can heal a lot of people." Deciding to leave their conversation at that, Dr. Wesley stood and gestured towards the door. "Now, fluids, good food, rest, and let Carlee and Devon worry about Scott for a while. Doctor's orders."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"And you're just going to bow down to their demands?" Fox sputtered in anger.

He paced furiously in front of the Federal Security Agency director's desk.

Pictures on the walls of the FSA director – a man in his early 60's, only a dozen years older than Fox himself – with presidents, heads of state, senators, congressmen, and more, diplomas and certificates all flashed past in Fox's peripheral vision. Fox knew the progression of those pictures nearly by heart. A young Gil, hair still full and dark, early in his Secret Service days, all the way up to today's graying and balding man with the current P.O.T.U.S. Fox was more than familiar with the office's richly appointed decor, having spent so much time here arguing that the pursuit of Forrester had to continue until he... no, it... was caught.

"For God's sake, Gil, you know how dangerous he is!" Fox's voice rose until he was practically yelling. He had to consciously restrain himself from slamming his hands down on Gil's leather accented oak desk.

"Actually, no, I don't," Gil Stanton replied quietly.

Fox stopped mid pace, wheeling around to face his boss. "You saw what he did at Pegram's!" he exclaimed only slightly lower in volume, referring to the Air Force base Paul and Scott had escaped from after briefly being captured two years before.

"I'll admit, he destroyed a lot of very expensive equipment, but no one was badly hurt. In fact, he saved your life, as I hear it," Gil replied, shifting in his chair to get more comfortable.

"It was exhaustion! Nothing more," Fox shot back automatically. He couldn't bring himself to face the other possibility. To do that would be to have to admit he'd been chasing a wild goose all these years. Looking for ill intent where none existed.

Shaking his head, unwilling to further argue about Fox's state of health two years ago, Gil brought their conversation back on topic, "The Foundation for Law and Government is threatening to sue the FSA."

"On what grounds?" Fox demanded, sinking into the visitor's chair across the desk from Gil.

"Unlawful persecution and detention of Paul and Scott." The director's use of Forrester's and Hayden's first names told Fox his battle was already lost, but it didn't stop him.

"They'd have to reveal what Forrester and Hayden are, then," Fox sputtered, emphasizing last names.

"They are more than willing to tell the world, and the Foundation is already lining up witnesses to attest to Paul and Scott's benign nature. Witnesses you yourself interviewed. Something I only just found out about, I might add. The agency is bowing to their demands because if this gets out, it's going to look very bad for us."

"So that's it! I'm being forced into retirement and Paul and Scott will go free," Fox seemed to visibly deflate.

Puffing out a breath at the ease with which Fox seemed to give up, Gil nodded and said, "I need your gun and badge. Your retirement is effective immediately."

Fox rose, removing his holstered side arm and pulling his I.D. case from its inside jacket pocket. Setting them on Gil's desk, he slid them towards the other man, then turned to go.

"One more thing, George," Gil waited for Fox to turn back again. "You're to have no contact with Paul, Scott, or Jenny. That family's been through enough."

Fox's ice-blue eyes narrowed into a glare, but he nodded before turning on his heel and exiting his former boss's office.

An agent Fox didn't know was waiting for him in the hall.

"Director Stanton asked me to escort you to your office to collect your things, then out of the building, sir," the young woman said, a look of discomfort in her green eyes.

Keeping a tight grip on his emotions, Fox gave her a curt nod and said, "Thank you."

It didn't take very long to collect his personal effects from his office.

He managed to make it home before breaking down.

Slamming the door behind him, Fox let out an angry shout preceding his fist striking the wall. A dent in the plaster and bruised knuckles were what he got for his effort.

Spinning around, he let his back come into contact with the wall and slide down it. Hugging his knees, Fox let his head drop forward, as huge wracking sobs filled the lonely, mostly unfurnished house.

This was not how he had imagined starting his retirement, not how he'd imagined his career ending.

He'd always thought he'd catch Paul and Scott and prove to the world how dangerous they were. He'd dreamed about leading the world into a new space age, one where protecting Earth was of paramount concern.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The afternoon sun of midsummer beat down on the small town of Crescent Mills, California, but Jenny hunched her head down – as she walked down the sidewalk towards the grocery store – as if a blizzard were raging.

Some days, the sorrow was so heavy around her, it felt that it would crush her soul. This was one of those days.

Two years had past and she didn't regret her decision for one moment. She never would have been able to live with herself, if she'd lead Fox to Paul and Scott, but she still missed them with every fiber of her being. She hadn't had one word of them in all that time. It made her feel as though she could go insane. She prayed everyday that they were all right. The only thing that really kept her going was knowing they were together and still looking for her.

She hadn't taken the time to get to know anyone in town, and she never visited the lone grocery store in any discernable pattern. Other than her paints and current painting, her few possessions were packed in her nondescript Toyota truck. She could leave at a moment's notice.

"Jenny," the sound of his voice jarred her out of her thoughts and to a halt. Turning slowly, her blue eyes raising from the sidewalk to the face of the man she thought to never see again, a sob tore itself from her throat.

"Paul!" was all she could get out before she was enfolded in his arms. Clinging to him, she buried her face in the crook of his neck. For several minutes, all she could do was sob his name as Paul held her to him, softly crooning, "Sh... It's okay!"

Regaining some semblance of control, Jenny pushed back from Paul, to look eagerly around. "Where is he?" she asked, meeting Paul's blue eyes questioningly. "Where's Scotty?"

The look in Paul's eyes told her everything she needed to know. Heedless of the scene she was creating, Jenny collapsed to the sidewalk, a shriek of, "No!" escaping her lips.

Kneeling next to her, Paul pulled her into his arms again, and let Jenny voice her despair. After a few moments, she whispered, "When?" as if she didn't have the energy for more.

"Three months ago." In a halting voice, he told her what had happened. "I was contemplating turning myself in. I... I thought maybe I could get Fox to let Scott go, if I gave myself up." After a breath he said, "Then..."

Before Paul finished his sentence, movement near the curb caught Jenny's attention.

A sleek black Trans Am had pulled up to the curb, and a woman was climbing out of the driver's seat.

Jenny registered two things nearly simultaneously. The first was the woman's bearing. The second was that she was in the late stages of pregnancy.

Jenny scrambled frantically to her feet, as every sense in her body screamed at her that this woman was law enforcement. Her survival instinct screaming at her to run, Jenny began to push against Paul, urging him to run, too. Paul's firm grip on her forearms and his calm unconcern were the only things that stopped her.

"It's okay!" Paul assured her. "They're friends." He still held her forearms, but more gently, as he turned her toward the woman. "Jenny, I'd like you to meet Carlee Knight and K.I.T.T."

Carlee cautiously extended her hand for Jenny to shake.

"I... I don't understand," Jenny stammered, as she shook Carlee's hand, once Paul released her.

"We're going to help you get your son released," Carlee spoke confidently.

"And get Agent Fox to leave all of you alone," said a new, electronic sounding, voice.

Looking around in confusion, Jenny said, "Who said that?"

Jenny watched as the passenger door of the Trans Am opened seemingly on its own. This time, the voice came from the empty interior of the car, "I am the Knight Industries Two Thousand, but you can call me K.I.T.T."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

When K.I.T.T. pulled into the mansion driveway, there was a man sitting on the front step.

It took a moment for Carlee to recognize Fox, as the immaculate suit of a month ago was rumpled and his eyes were hollow and haunted, much like Paul's had been when she'd first met him those long weeks ago.

The rapidly indrawn breaths from the back seat told Carlee she wasn't the only one to notice Fox.

"What's he doing here?" Jenny demanded.

From Jenny's tone, Carlee knew the other woman felt betrayed.

"I don't know. Part of the Foundation's deal with the FSA was that Fox wasn't to make contact with you." As K.I.T.T. slowed to a stop, Carlee turned awkwardly to look at her two charges. "Stay in K.I.T.T. He'll take you around to the garage. You can get in the mansion from there." Then she opened the door and levered herself out of the low car. She closed the door, then patted the roof of the car, "Call security, K.I.T.T." Turning towards Fox, she demanded, "What are you doing here, Mr. Fox?" Behind her, K.I.T.T. slowly accelerated along the curve of the driveway towards the back of the F.L.A.G. mansion.

Fox's eyes followed the progress of the car for a moment, his face registering surprise at the lack of a driver. Without answering Carlee, he jumped to his feet and darted in front of K.I.T.T., who quickly came to a stop.

Fox leaned forward, placing his hands on K.I.T.T.'s hood. Eyes locking beseechingly on Paul's face, he shouted, "I just want to talk!" loudly enough so Paul could hear from inside the car. Then he mouthed, "Please!"

Inside the car, Jenny put her hand on Paul's forearm, and the two had a brief, intense conversation. Jenny's adamantly shaking head told Fox that she was against Paul talking to Fox.

Fox jerked straight, as K.I.T.T. reversed away from him.

K.I.T.T. came to a stop a moment later, when Paul faced the dash board and said, "K.I.T.T., stop."

"I have scanned you, so I know you are not armed. That is the only reason I will allow Paul to get out to talk to you," a disembodied voice said.

The car's passenger side door opened and Paul pushed the passenger seat forward so he could get out of the car. In a show of trust, he closed the car door and stepped forward.

Raising one dark brow curiously, Paul asked, "What did you want to talk about?"

"Why? Why did you save me?"

Of everything Fox could want to ask him, Paul wouldn't have put this one in the top ten. It was also a question Paul had never asked himself. He knew that if Fox had died, he and Scott would have been free, but it was just something he couldn't let happen when he had the ability to save Fox.

"Every life has meaning. It's a belief common to both of our peoples, George Fox," he deliberately let himself slip back into the speech patterns of using a person's first and last name he'd used on his first visit, and for a few months after he returned.

"You could have been free! Why didn't you just let me die?"

There was a look on Fox's face and in his eyes that Paul had never seen before. It made him uneasy, but he didn't back away. "I'm sorry, but I've already told you why. I cannot give you an answer that would satisfy you. You should leave. I'm sure K.I.T.T. has already called security and the police."

At that moment, the front door fo the mansion opened and two men, dressed in security uniforms, stepped out.

The two guards calmly approached Fox, positioning themselves to each side of him. As they went to take him by the arms, Fox twisted like a snake.

Before it had even occurred to the men to reach for their weapons, Fox had relieved the man on his right of his sidearm. Flipping the safety off, he carefully covered both guards. He took a step to the side and back to get out of reach of the men, then motioned to the second guard to drop his gun.

"Move over by Miss Knight," Fox commanded, as he kicked the dropped gun away.

Carlee, knowing she was too exposed, hadn't pulled her own gun, biding her time for an opening she could use. It seemed that Fox didn't even realize that she was armed.

"Just stay out of the way and you won't get hurt," Fox told Carlee and the guards, as he aimed the gun at Paul.

Paul had been trying to unobtrusively back away, but he stopped as soon as the gun swung around to point at him.

In K.I.T.T., Jenny was frantically trying to get the door open. K.I.T.T., afraid Jenny would be hurt if he opened the door and Fox opened fire, was keeping it firmly shut.

"You ruined my life!" Fox spat with such hatred that Paul took an involuntary step backwards.

In that moment, Paul made a decision he hoped wouldn't cost him his life.

Spreading his arms wide, he took a step forward again. "I know you won't shoot me."

The muzzle of the gun had begun to tremble in Fox's hand. He adjusted his grip, trying to steady the gun. "I will shoot you!"

Paul took another small step forward, so the gun was only feet from his chest. "That's what you said at Peagrams, but you couldn't bring yourself to shoot me then, either."

Another step closer, and now Paul was only inches from the muzzle of the gun, inches from death. The gun trembled more, and Fox couldn't steady it.

"You're not a murderer," Paul said, taking the last step forward.

Fox's hand dropped to his side, the gun sliding from suddenly nerveless fingers.

Seeing her chance, Carlee drew her weapon, covering Fox while the two guards moved in, ready with handcuffs this time.

A few minutes later, two police cars pulled into the driveway behind K.I.T.T., their roof mounted light bars flashing.

Carlee waved a friendly hello to the two women and two men who got out of the squad cars.

"Hey, Carlee," Officer Mason Galloway waved back with a smile. "Looks like you guys have everything under control here."

As Carlee spoke to her cop friend, Paul and Jenny – whom K.I.T.T. had let out as soon as the situation had been defused – walked over.

"You want charges pressed against Mr. Fox?" Officer Galloway asked, gesturing with his head towards Fox.

"Yes," Carlee said at the exact same time as Paul said, "No."

Galloway's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Are you sure, Paul?" Carlee asked.

"I'm sure." Turning to Officer Galloway, he said, "Just take him home."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The night had cooled considerably with the setting of the sun. Never before had Carlee appreciated that cool down as much as she did now.

As her pregnancy had advanced, Carlee had found herself retreating into the cool mansion, or blasting K.I.T.T.'s air conditioner full blast during the heat of the day.

Now – as most nights lately – she found herself unable to sleep, as every time she tried, the baby would decide to stretch or use her bladder as a punching bag. She'd taken to walking the perimeter of the mansion's huge garden and then making her way to the kitchen for a mug of warm milk.

The garden was along the guest wing of the mansion, and each guest suite had a sliding glass door opening onto a small patio with lounge chairs for enjoying the scenery.

Moonlight from a nearly full moon illuminated the patios and garden well enough that Carlee hadn't felt the need to turn on the landscape lights. On a truly dark night, the red brick of the mansion would look dark and foreboding, but tonight, it was bright enough out that details usually only apparent during the day could be made out.

A blue glow from the patio outside of the suite Paul and Jenny were using drew Carlee's attention.

As she drew closer, she could make out Paul stretched out on one of the lounge chairs. His brows were furrowed in concentration. He was so focused on the glowing sphere in his hand that he hadn't noticed her approach. It pleased Carlee that Paul felt so safe here.

Clearing her throat, so as not to startle him, Carlee stepped closer to Paul's lounge chair.

As Paul's focus went from his sphere to Carlee, the glow faded away.

"Hi! I hope I'm not disturbing you."

Paul shook his head, but the smile he gave her was sad. "Not at all. Would you like to sit?"

With a small laugh, Carlee replied, "I'm afraid that if I got down into one of those chairs, I'd never be able to get back up." Carlee could sense that Paul had something to say, but didn't seem to know where to start. "I was just going to go for a walk around the garden. Would you like to walk with me?" she asked.

Rising from the lounge chair, Paul tucked his sphere into his jeans pocket, and motioned for Carlee to lead the way.

As they stepped from the patio onto one of the paved pathways that lead through the garden, Carlee pushed her hands into her own pockets and gazed thoughtfully up into the night sky.

Glancing over at Paul, who had paused to study a rose, Carlee asked, "What was it you were doing back there, with your sphere?"

"Once Scott gained confidence with using his sphere, he came up with a way that we could connect with each other, if we were separated. Much the same way he unconsciously used his sphere to contact me four years ago." The tremble in his voice finally broke on a sob, and he nearly doubled over as though in pain, "I can't find him!"

Placing her hand on his arm, Carlee said with a conviction she hoped was right, "He's still alive! Fox took his sphere from him. That's the only reason you can't find him! K.I.T.T. is digging through every aspect of Fox's life. He will find Scott!"

Taking a breath and stifling another sob, Paul straightened back up. "You're right! He's alive, and we'll find him!"

Hoping to bring a smile back to Paul's face, Carlee said, "I think we could both use a little comfort food. I heard from a very reliable source that Chef baked a Dutch apple pie today. If I remember right, there's even some homemade vanilla ice cream we can have with it!"

"My favorite!" Paul murmured, a wistful smile chasing away the worry and anguish, at least for a while. "How'd you know?"

With a laugh, as she headed towards the kitchen, Carlee said, "My very reliable source, of course! K.I.T.T."

The kitchen was huge, which made sense for a mansion. Everything in it was industrial in size, since it was often used to prepare food for diplomatic meetings and charity galas held at the mansion.

"Since K.I.T.T. can't come into the mansion, for obvious reasons, he monitors the security camera feeds," Carlee said, as she dished two slices of pie onto plates, adding a scoop of vanilla ice cream next.

Setting forks on the plates, she handed one plate to Paul and gestured with the other towards a small table against one wall. The table was most often used by the chef and his assistants during their break times, but it was also occasionally used by Carlee, Devon, or Bonnie.

Carlee's small snort of laughter caused Paul to look up from his admiration of the slice of pie in front of him.

"What's so funny?" he asked, his right eyebrow rising curiously.

"I was just thinking that if Michael, my late husband, were still alive, Chef would have had to make at least two more pies, and hide one."

"Was Dutch apple pie his favorite, too?" Paul asked, finally taking a bite of his pie. A low, "Mmm..." escaped, as he slowly chewed.

"Not Dutch apple so much as anything sweet," Carlee replied, giving in to her own sadness for a moment.

"I'm sorry. It must be hard!" Paul put his fork down for a moment, so he could rest his hand on Carlee's arm, as she had done for him earlier.

Tears brimmed in her eyes, and she tried to blink them away. A few fell anyway, and she impatiently brushed them away. "I have K.I.T.T., Bonnie, and Devon." Patting her belly she added, "And soon, I'll have this one, too! My family. My strength."

"Do you know what you're having?"

"Nope."

"I could tell you." Paul's hand moved towards his pocket.

"I don't know because I want it to be a surprise." Carlee's gaze moved to the video camera in the corner of the kitchen. "I suspect K.I.T.T. knows, though."

"Do you already have names picked out?"

"Boy or girl, this baby's going to be named after Michael. Michael for a boy, Michaela for a girl."

They ate the rest of their snack in a companionable silence and then parted ways.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Scott Hayden paced the small cell he was being held in, his long strides eating up the distance from wall to wall.

Any other sixteen year old would be using those long strides to eat up distance on a football field or basketball court. None of them could imagine not being fully human, or having to run for survival.

For most of four years, Scott and his father had managed to keep a few steps ahead of Fox. Now, Scott could only hope his dad was still free. Considering the most anyone said to him in this place was, "Follow me," "Sit here," "Lay in this machine," and other phrases of the like, Scott knew they'd never tell him if they'd caught his dad.

Reaching what he'd dubbed the north wall, Scott spun on his heal and began to pace along it to the west wall. He'd assigned the directions using his inner sense of direction, but with no window to judge the sun's position, he didn't know how accurate he'd been.

The cell door was in the east wall. The north wall was taken up by a one-way mirror, which he'd stooped so low as to make funny faces and even a few obscene gestures at a few times. The west wall had a door into a small bathroom. A bed was bolted to the floor in the southwest corner. A table and one chair were bolted to the floor in the southeast corner. The bed, table, and chair were steel – unbendable, immobile. The mattress was made up of a rectangle of foam about five inches thick and covered in a thick vinyl. It had actually been secured to the bed frame.

Pacing gave his body something to do, without requiring much thought.

In his mind, he created what he thought the interior of the door's lock looked like.

The last year and a half had shown a rapid improvement in his ability to use his sphere, so his dad had moved on to the much more difficult task of teaching Scott to use his innate power. It didn't require the sphere, but would only work on very simple mechanics.

Opening the lock with his sphere would have been a piece of cake. Without it, Scott wasn't sure he'd be able to do it, but he had nothing better to do with his time.

At a sound from the door, the carefully constructed image in his mind slipped away, causing Scott to nearly let slip a word that would have had his dad raising an eyebrow at him.

The door swung inward on silent hinges as Scott spun to face it.

Usually, an armed guard preceded a scientist into the room, but not this time.

The man who entered today wore a dark gray suit. The suit jacket did little to hide the gun holstered in a shoulder rig on the balding man's left side. He stepped into the room, but didn't bother to close the door.

"Scott, I'm Gil Stanton, director of the Federal Security Agency, and George Fox's former boss."

Scott did his best to hide his feelings, disbelief being the dominant one. This had to be some kind of trick.

"I'm here to release you. Your mom and dad are waiting outside."

Eyes darting from the FSA director to the door and back, Scott finally let his disbelief show, "Yeah, right!"

Reaching in his pocket, Gil pulled out a shiny silver sphere. "I believe this belongs to you," he said, holding it out towards Scott.

To the untrained eye, the sphere appeared to be nothing more than a steel ball bearing, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. For Scott and his father, it was a source of power, but it was more than that, too. Over the years, as he'd learned to work with it, the sphere's hum and blue glow had brought Scott a sense of peace, and of family, as well. It was a connection to who and what he was.

Now, he tentatively held his hand out, palm up, to the FSA director. Scott expected at any moment that the director would snatch the sphere back. He didn't breathe again until the sphere was resting in the palm of his hand.

When the director's hand was clear, Scott closed his hand tightly around the sphere, his eyes closing at the same time.

As he relaxed into the power contained in his hand, Scott loosened his fingers enough to allow a soft blue glow to escape between them.

The FSA director took a startled step back, his eyes going wide in wonder and fear.

The glow faded away and a serene smile spread across Scott's face, as he tucked the sphere safely into his jeans pocket. "You're telling the truth!" Wonder replaced the disbelief. Could the years of running finally be over?


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"Mom! Dad!"

Scott's shout caused the two to spin away from the black T-top toward the front door of the nondescript office building.

Scott raced up and swept Jenny off her feet, spinning her in circles, as he hugged her tightly. She returned the embrace, kissing his face happily.

When they stopped spinning, Paul joined the embrace, throwing his arms around both of them.

Jenny breathed out a contented sigh, as Scott finally set her back on her feet. She took a slight step back, leaning her head back so she could look up into Scott's face. "You're so tall!" she exclaimed in wonder, reaching up to rest the palm of one hand against his cheek, reassuring the both of them that the moment was really happening.

"Mom!" was all Scott could say, as tears began to trail down his cheeks.

Gathering Scott into her arms, Jenny murmured, "It's okay! We're together now! We're all together!"

As Paul watched the reunion between mother and son, he couldn't help the grin that lit his face up, or the tears that chased each other down his own face.

"How is this happening?" Scott asked, as the shock of freedom overtook him. "Why are they letting us go?"

A softly cleared throat pulled Scott and Jenny apart a few minutes later. "That's a bit of a long story, but you can hear all about it on the ride home," Carlee said, before introducing herself and K.I.T.T. Everyone piled into the car for the two hour drive back to the mansion, Paul taking the passenger seat so that Jenny and a dazed Scott could sit together in the back seat.

Carlee figured she and K.I.T.T. would have to reintroduce themselves to Scott, once the shock of his release and reunion with his parents – especially his mother – had worn off.

Pulling out of the parking lot of the building Scott had been held in for the past three months, Carlee shifted in her seat, as a wave of pain washed across her stomach.

The pain receded and she didn't think anymore of it until it hit again several miles down the road.

This time, her sharply indrawn breath alerted K.I.T.T. that something was wrong, "Carlee, are you okay?"

Breathing through the pain, she panted, "I think I'm going into labor, K.I.T.T."

As K.I.T.T. began to scan her vitals, it registered with Carlee that the low murmuring from the back seat had stopped. All attention was now focused on her.

When the contraction passed a moment later, she turned to look over her shoulder, "Don't worry about me! I've still got hours of labor to go."

"I've already contacted Dr. Wesley. He'll be waiting for us," K.I.T.T. informed her, as he subtly increased their speed towards one hundred miles an hour.

* K * R *

Upon returning to the mansion, Carlee was wheeled into the infirmary by one of Dr. Wesley's nurses, followed closely by Bonnie. Devon escorted Paul, Jenny, and Scott to their suite, before joining Carlee in the infirmary. K.I.T.T. would watch through the infirmary surveillance cameras.

It looked to Carlee as if Dr. Wesley's entire staff was on hand for her delivery.

The nurses helped Carlee change into a hospital gown, started an I.V. drip, and hooked up a fetal heart rate monitor that would also chart Carlee's contractions.

Once she was settled in the bed, Dr. Wesley came in to check how far Carlee was dilated.

"We've still got a while, yet," Dr. Wesley said, as he removed the latex gloves from his hands a few minutes later.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Hours passed with Bonnie dabbing at the sweat dripping down Carlee's forehead, as Carlee concentrated on breathing through the painful contractions. Devon sat on her other side, holding her hand.

Just minutes ago, Dr. Wesley had checked her again and declared it was time to push.

"Okay, Carlee," he now said, positioning himself to help guide the baby into the world, "Push."

With a grunt, Carlee did as she was told, pushing as hard as she could.

An hour later, Carlee's efforts were rewarded with the sound of a baby crying.

"It's a girl!" Dr. Wesley exclaimed, as he lay the baby across Carlee's chest.

"Michaela!" Carlee beamed happily, as Bonnie and Devon oohed and ahhed over the tiny new member of their family.

A new wave of pain caused Carlee to cry out.

"Totally normal, Carlee. You still have to deliver the placenta. Should be out very soon," Dr. Wesley reassured her, as he took Michaela to examine her.

"Dr. Wesley," the nurse monitoring Carlee's vitals called to the doctor, her tone worried.

Having the neo natal nurse take over the weighing and measuring of baby Michaela, Dr. Wesley hurried back to Carlee's side.

"What's wrong, Carol?" he asked the nurse.

"Blood pressure is dropping, she's bleeding too much!"

A surge of bright red blood from Carlee's vagina punctuated the nurse's words.

"Doctor!" Bonnie cried out, as Carlee lost consciousness, her head lolling to the side.

With a calm but intense look at Devon, Dr. Wesley told him, "Go get Paul! Hurry, or we may lose her!" Dr. Wesley didn't wait to see if Devon obeyed, he was too busy issuing orders to the nurses, trying to save Carlee's life.

Devon ran from the infirmary as fast as he could, making it to the guest wing in just under a minute.

Pounding on the door, Devon nearly reached for the door knob. It only took a few heartbeats for the door to be opened, though.

Paul's smile changed to worry, when he saw the terror on Devon's face.

Devon was already moving back towards the infirmary, as he explained, "Dr. Wesley needs you. Carlee!"

Paul didn't waste a breath on a reply, he just nodded and followed Devon, his hand already reaching into his pocket for his sphere.

When they reached the infirmary, Devon feared they were already too late. Dr. Wesley's frenzied movements being the closest thing to panic Devon had ever seen from the man. The nurses were rushing around, preparing Carlee for emergency surgery.

Paul's calm, "What do you need me to do, doctor?" was a jarring counterpoint to the doctor's hurried actions.

"Carlee is bleeding to death. I think she has placenta accreta. The placenta has grown too deeply into the uterine wall. It's affecting her blood's ability to clot. I'm going to have to give her a hysterectomy. Stop the bleeding, and clot her blood while I perform the surgery."

Before the doctor's last words faded away, the room filled with blue light and a soothing hum. Paul rested his left hand on Carlee's forehead, and allowed his gaze to delve inward.

* K * R *

Light flared around her, making it impossible to discern her surroundings. After a moment, the light dimmed, and sound rushed to surround her.

Carlee stood next to her body, watching as Dr. Wesley directed his nurses. Bonnie was being pushed back from the bed, her eyes open wide in horror at the blood flow Dr. Wesley fought to stave off. After a moment of wide eyed shock, Bonnie turned and ran for the door, and it occurred to Carlee that she could hear K.I.T.T. screaming her name through the comm link on her wrist.

Across the bed from her stood Michael, looking just as he had the last time she'd seen him alive. He was resting his hand on Carlee's gazing into her slack features, begging her to hold on, that it wasn't her time to go yet.

"Michael?"

Michael's head jerked up, his blue eyes darting from Carlee on the bed, to Carlee now standing next to him. He reacted by encircling her in a fierce hug and kissing her hard on the mouth, before pushing her back to arms length to say, "You have to go back into your body, Carlee! It's not your time yet!"

A gentle smile settled on Carlee's face. "I'm ready, Michael! I want to stay with you!"

As much as he wanted to take her and go into the light, Michael knew he couldn't. "Our daughter and K.I.T.T. both need you!"

Looking down at her body, Carlee watched as the nurses tended to Michaela and Dr. Wesley made an incision into her lower abdomen. For the first time, she also heard the hum and saw the blue light surrounding Paul's hand. She felt a tug towards her body and knew Michael was right. She couldn't go yet.

Slipping her arms around Michael one last time, she rested her cheek against his chest. As she felt herself pulled from him, back to her body, she heard him murmur, "I love you, but you won't remember any of this when you wake."

* K * R *

"Michael?" Carlee murmured in confusion, but knew instantly it wasn't his hand on her forehead.

Opening her eyes, she met Paul's calm gaze, noting the worry that was quickly fading away. He retreated so that Dr. Wesley could place Michaela back on her chest and check her vitals. From Dr. Wesley's expression of relief, Carlee knew that was just a formality, though.

Registering the copious amount of blood covering Dr. Wesley's scrubs, Carlee asked, "Were you filming a scene for a horror movie?" She tried to keep her tone light, but it fell flat as she took in the looks of relief on everyone's face.

"You almost died," Dr. Wesley said. Pulling Paul back with a hand on his shoulder, he continued, "Paul saved you."

Carlee didn't know what to say. "Thank you" seemed too inadequate, but it was all she had. "Thank you, Paul!"

The doctor's face took on a serious and sad expression. "I had no choice but to remove your uterus."

"Oh," was all Carlee could think to say. It would be a while before she could take in the full implications of what she'd just been told.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The judge's chambers were an opulently appointed office that easily rivaled Devon's office in the F.L.A.G. mansion.

Devon and Paul – the former dressed in his usual gray suit, the latter dressed in a dark blue suit instead of his usual jeans and button down shirt – sat on the rich leather sofa, while His Honor, Judge Edward Prescott, sat in a matching arm chair.

"Devon Miles, I've never known you to be a prankster, but so help me, if this is a joke, I'll find not only you, but the whole of the F.L.A.G. Foundation in contempt!" Judge Prescott said, as he looked up from the paperwork in his lap to the two men before him.

"Precisely the reason we came to you, Your Honor," Devon replied calmly. With a nod to Paul, he said, "Go ahead and show him, son."

Doing his best to hide his nervousness, Paul reached into his pocket and pulled out his sphere.

As the room filled with blue light and the sphere's gentle hum, Judge Prescott leaned forward in fascination.

"May I?" he asked, his hand reaching out slowly towards the sphere.

Paul let the glow die away, and extended his own hand toward the judge.

Judge Prescott gingerly picked the sphere up and brought it closer to his face. After several moments of intense scrutiny, he set it in his own palm and offered it back to Paul, who had it tucked safely back into his pocket seconds later.

"So, you want to become a U.S. citizen?"

"Yes, your honor," Paul replied, even though he suspected the question had been rhetorical, since that was what all of the paperwork was for.

"Will you continue working as a photographer?" Judge Prescott glanced over at Devon, as he asked his next question, "You know you'll have to repay any royalties you've received for the real Paul Forrester's work?"

Devon gave the judge a nod and replied, "The Foundation is prepared to pay back any royalties, as well as paying any back taxes Paul may owe for payments received on his own work."

Paul gave Devon a grateful smile, then turned back to the judge to respond to his first question. "As much as I've enjoyed taking pictures, I think I've discovered something I'd rather do. I'd like to go to medical school." Patting the pocket his sphere was in, he continued, "I believe that with more knowledge of how the human body works, I can save a lot of lives."

"Carlee would have bled to death, if it weren't for Paul," Devon added, giving Paul the impression that Carlee and the judge knew each other.

Nodding, as though he'd come to a decision, Judge Prescott said, "You need a name, seeing as there was a Paul Forrester already. You can keep Paul as a first name, but you need a different last name."

"I'd like to be Paul Hayden," Paul said, after a moment's thought.

Judge Prescott signed Paul's citizenship papers with a flourish, then stood.

Paul and Devon stood as well. Judge Prescott shook Paul's hand, then Devon's. "Welcome to the U.S. as a full and legal citizen, Mr. Paul Hayden."


End file.
